


Bring It

by FalCatrecon



Category: Supernatural, The Agency (TV 2001)
Genre: Gen, planes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 21:19:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18432305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalCatrecon/pseuds/FalCatrecon
Summary: For @nongaberichbang squares secret agent man and unwilling hero. Set roughly after The Agency and before Supernatural.——-Lex stared hard at his laptop, knee bouncing in nervousness. He hated flying so much, and this time he had to do it alone. With all the times he had to do this for work you’d think he’d be over it, but noooo nothing like that. He neurotically hit refresh on the webpage again, the plane still perfectly on time.At least he could relatively sit still, unlike the guy in the leather jacket who was pacing, glancing at the gate far too often for it not to be nerves. He realized he had been staring when the other man met his eyes. “What.” It was a challenge, not a question.





	Bring It

Lex stared hard at his laptop, knee bouncing in nervousness. He hated flying so much, and this time he had to do it alone. With all the times he had to do this for work you’d think he’d be over it, but noooo nothing like that. He neurotically hit refresh on the webpage again, the plane still perfectly on time.

At least he could relatively sit still, unlike the guy in the leather jacket who was pacing, glancing at the gate far too often for it not to be nerves. He realized he had been staring when the other man met his eyes. “What.” It was a challenge, not a question.

“Nothing.” Lex shook his head and ducked back down to his laptop. He hit refresh again. Same thing. It should have reassured him that the plane was okay, but not really. He glanced back up, realizing the pacing in front of him had slowed down. It was his turn to ask, “What?”

The guy sunk down into the chair next to him, snagging the old army bag nearby. Ah. He hadn’t stopped for him but his stuff. The guy did lean over to peek at his screen. “What’s that?”

“Website for updated flight information.” He tapped a line on the screen. “That’s our plane’s current flight path. It’s on time.” He grimaced, his next word dripping in sarcasm. “Yay.”

The man considered him a moment, then stuck out his hand. “Dean.”

“Lex.” He shook his hand politely then turned back to the computer to refresh it again. No change, though it should be landing nowish. At least it would be over sooner, right? He sighed and started to pack up his computer and other things, knowing they’d be called for boarding soon.

Dean stiffened in the seat next to him. “What happened?”

Lex waved him down and pointed out the window at the plane taxiing into place. “Plane is here.”

“Oh.” He didn’t really relax, fidgeting with the handles of his bag. Looked like Dean definitely didn’t like flying any more than he did, which oddly comforted him.

He stood up, having found standing for a bit was nice before several hours in a plane trapped in those tiny chairs. “First time flying?”

Dean shook his head sharply in denial, standing up too. “I just hate it.”

“Me too.” Lex patted his shoulder in solidarity. “At least it’s a straight flight to California.” He frowned. “Long though.” He shouldered his bag and glanced at the doorway, waiting for the attendant to call boarding.

Dean offered a grimace. “Six hours.” He too picked up his bag and idled his way towards the doors, keeping pace with Lex. Lex assumed it was a sort of safety in numbers reflex, not that it helped in the case of planes, but support was always nice.

He offered a tentative smile. “Nah, only five and a half.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but at least smirked back. The conversation died as they were waiting, but it wasn’t an awkward silence at least. Comrades in arms against flight.

And as they were called to the plane and funneled into the thin metal tube he found they were seat-mates too. Lex shrugged and settled into the window seat, Dean getting the aisle. Reminded him a bit of the time he had to fly commercial with Stiles, not that that ended well. He dug out his headphones, trying to calm his breathing. Last thing he should have reminded himself of.

Dean settled stiffly, his hands white-knuckling the arms of the seat before they had even seated everyone. Lex pulled his headphones down and nudged him. “If you got headphones listen to something. At the very least it might distract you.”

“I don’t.” He did try to hum a bit, a garbled version of Enter Sandman as far as Lex could tell. He settled his headphones back into place, trying to focus on the words flowing through them. Dean’s complete and utter stillness was somehow more distracting than if he had been jittery. 

Lex sighed and dug in his bag, tucking some comics into the seatback in front of Dean. At this point any distraction for the poor man was better than nothing. Dean’s fingers slowly pryed themselves from the arms, and he nodded in appreciation as he pulled them out to read. Lex knew they wouldn’t take long to finish, but hopefully long enough to get into the air. He closed his eyes tightly as he heard and felt the engine wind up, gripping the fabric of his pants sharply at the jerk of the plane backing out of its gate.

He took a long breath as they taxied towards the runway and he peeked over at Dean. The comics were in his lap and he was just as petrified as before. Lex took the comics, accidentally making Dean jump at the touch. He raised his hands, slowly returning the comics back to the pocket he had put them in earlier. Dean nodded sharply before shutting his eyes tightly again, probably humming too. They both weren’t doing so well, were they?

He took long, slow breaths, knowing what was to come. He couldn’t hear much past the engine and his headphones, but the arm next to his started to tremble a little less. The engines revved up again, and he could feel Dean jump. He was seriously suspecting he hadn’t actually flown before. As they were pressed into their seats he could feel Dean go completely still and he took the time to concentrate on himself so he wouldn’t lock up too. 

When they finally settled out Lex gave a big sigh and tugged his headphones off. Dean relaxed a tiny bit at the motion and turned to look at him. Lex shrugged. “Ninety-two percent of accidents happen thirty seconds before takeoff and two minutes before landing.” He grimaced. “We’re in the _relatively_ safe part of the flight.”

Dean huffed his own sigh and looked around for a stewardess. “I need a drink.”

Lex shook his head. “Alcohol increases jet lag, though I understand the sentiment.” He pulled out his computer from under the seat in front of him and opened it. Government issued internet was a godsend. He pulled up his handy-dandy flight map, already set for his current flight. He studied it a moment before nodding. Yeah, it was right on track.

Dean leaned into his space again and he explained the function of the website. The guy looked impressed, which was cool. Most of the time he’d get ridicule for this, but then again Dean here was just as afraid of flying if not even worse. By the time the stewardess had come by Dean was reading the comics offered, occasionally asking a plot-related question. It was apparent he used to read them, but hadn’t in the last few years. Lex was glad to have someone to talk to, and he happily had caught the man up with the last story arc to the point of the comic in his hand. Dean even questioned character’s choices and paths, and it was just awesome to have someone to talk _with_ rather than _at_ for once.

Dean ordered a ginger ale for mild air sickness under Lex’s suggestion, and Lex got himself a water. As he took a sip he glanced at the computer screen that he had been ignoring for the great conversation. He froze. “Crap.”

Having taken probably far too many cues from Lex up to this point, Dean froze in panic too. “What.”

Lex shook his head and pointed at the screen. “We’re far too off course for a simple turbulence change.” He tapped at the weather radar next to the flight path. “Not that there’s anything to cause that anyway.” He tapped over to his chat program and realized it had a _‘you ok’_ waiting. He hadn’t been nerotically sending messages the whole time like usual, so it probably made them nervous back at HQ. He grinned nervously a bit at himself and typed back. ‘Fine, found a friend. Now not fine, probably hijacked. Again.’

“Hijacked?” Dean nearly squeaked, which would have been hilarious if not so serious.

Lex closed his eyes and sighed. “Maybe. I need to talk to the stewardess.” He lightly nudged at Dean to move, who hurried out of the way. Lex tried his best to be nonchalant about the whole thing for Dean’s sake. “Probably fine.” He wasn’t sure he pulled it off, as it certainly sounded strained to his ears.

He bee-lined for the service station near the cockpit, trying not to look harried but he knew he was walking pretty quickly. He scanned the seats, but nearly all of them still had people in them. No one looked out of place, but he really wasn’t the best for casing people. That was field agents, not programmers or digital designers. He could make any piece of paper look just perfect but that didn’t mean he knew people well at all.

The stewardess tried to stop him from entering, but relented when he said he needed to talk. Lex figited at the entrance, looking back towards the passengers. He twitched the curtain closed, which earned him an odd look from her. He leaned forward, trying to keep his voice down. He didn’t want to panic the rest of the plane. “Our flight path is way off. Is the captain okay?”

\-----

Dean looked up as Lex got to their row. “Hey man, is it okay?”

“Yup, completely fine.” Lex offered a smile as he scooted into his seat. “Don’t worry about it.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. Something was off. The body language wasn’t quite right, though he was starting to settle right. The nervousness seemed… faked now though. He dug in his bag, pulling out a small silver knife that he had managed to smuggle through security. They were on a plane, sure, but that didn’t mean anything. For all he knew Lex had just been humouring him and this would clear it up, or it was his own fear from this damn flight getting to him. “Hey Lex.”

The guy turned and Dean ‘accidentally’ brushed him with the knife. He recoiled, so Dean reached out and snagged the back of his neck. “I’ll get to the point.” He held the knife up near the man’s face. “I know what you are, where the hell is Lex?”

His eyes didn’t leave the point of the knife and he licked his lips in nervousness. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dean gripped harder and carefully pressed the edge to his cheek, watching it burn. “Sure you don’t. It’s silver by the way.”

Alright alright! I’ll… I’ll take you to him.” He gestured with a free hand to the aisle.

Dean slowly backed out, keeping the knife low and out of the other passenger’s view. He spoke low so only the other man could hear him. “Don’t try anything stupid.”

Fake Lex nodded rapidly, heading down the aisle to the stewardess alcove Lex had gone to. He acted unhurried, which actually made Dean more nervous. Probably had a buddy in the alcove, otherwise just yelling hijacker would get Dean taken down so quickly, especially with a knife on him. He stuck to the other man like glue, nearly pushing him into the alcove, tugging the curtain closed quickly. The shifter’s eyes shimmered with a grin, but Dean easily ducked from the swing that came from behind and to the side. One of the other stewardesses had been waiting. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the other, surprising both shifters. They must not have tangled with hunters before.

They were still shifters though, and moved with a speed that for a normal person was surprising. Unfortunately for them, they were tackling Dean. The stewardess was easily dispatched, the knife deep in her throat. Fake Lex was a little harder, though he suspected it was because it looked like him. He took a deep breath, surveying the carnage. He needed a place to hide the bodies so whoever might be in league with them wouldn’t suspect anything yet. And he still didn’t know where Lex was or even if he was alive. He took a chance and called out. “Lex?”

A thumping echoed from one of the cart cabinets in the wall. He quickly glanced around and snagged a napkin, draping it over the other Lex’s face. No need to traumatize him more than he already was. He popped open the door, hauling Lex out from where he had been stuffed. He yanked the gag from his face and immediately got the question he was expecting. “What the hell was he?” His eyes skipped over the bodies at first, then went back to them. “You killed them?”

The last question didn’t sound as desperately upset as Dean was used to hearing, and it made his own answer a bit stilted as he covertly tried to test this Lex. “A shifter. Sorry buddy, but you got involved in the weird.” Nothing from the blade other than an ick face as Lex wiped his hand off. 

Lex tentatively approached his copy, generally ignoring the stewardess. He carefully lifted the napkin and grimaced. “I was hoping I was dreaming or something. Or maybe got drugged. Ugh.” He shivered. “Skin peeling should stay in Hatchet Man.” Dropping the cloth back over the face he knelt down and began removing the clothes.

Dean just stared at how business-like Lex was treating this. He was acting disturbed but yet obviously seen things like this before. He couldn’t even properly enjoy the reference to his favorite movie series out of paranoia. “What are you?”

Lex’s hands stopped and he looked up at Dean. “Uh.” He looked back down at the dead body he was currently undressing and nodded. “Yeah, fair.” He tugged the body over, digging into a side pocket. Looked like the guy didn’t even bother to sort through his pockets. He tossed the ID tag up at Dean. “CIA.”

Dean glanced at the ID, knowing how easy those things were faked. “Yeah, and I’m FBI.” Rolling his eyes he tossed his own ID at Lex, who caught it.

Lex flipped it open, then began to laugh. “I mean, I get your point, Mick Jagger, but this…” He snickered. “Whoever made it for you did a poor job.” Dean crossed his arms and glared in answer, and Lex just stared back, realization that Dean must have made it himself finally hitting him. “Oh. Uh.” He looked at the ID again. “It’s good enough to pass for normal people?”

Dean snatched his ID back and dropped Lex’s onto the body. “Whatever.”

Lex worked at tugging the clothes off as Dean jammed the stewardess into the compartment Lex had been stowed in a moment ago. When he finally felt decent he turned to Dean, who had started opening other compartments, probably looking for places to stuff the weirdo duplicate. “The plane is still off-course. I need to get back to my computer and phone and get ahold of my people. The ID is real.” He grimaced. “Though I have no clue what to tell them that won’t make me sound insane.”

Dean, who seemed to have calmed down from the slight, shrugged in reply. “The police and stuff I end up meeting just kinda, lie.” He gestured to the compartment that he had put the Lex shifter. “What else would you say?”

Lex threw up his hands. “I don’t know!” He started to pace the small cabin space. “But they’re CIA. They _know_ when I’m lying.” He ran a hand down his face. “Whatever. Just… I guess unknown hijackers that infiltrated the serving staff and maybe the cockpit.” He pulled the curtain aside slightly, surveying the plane. He gestured at Dean. “Hold back, there’s still other servers on board and who knows what they are at this point.”

Dean rankled at the direction, but saw the wisdom in it. He nodded and made a shooing motion at Lex. 

Lex tried his best to play it cool, heading back to his seat and snagging his computer and bag from where they were sitting. This he could do, he could at least act cool for the passengers. Act like he belonged and that there was nothing at all wrong with what he was doing. Confidence was key. He finally checked the computer when he got back to Dean, and it was drowned in messages from home base who had noticed the flight path error finally. He smiled a little at himself as he messaged back. _’hijackers got me, got help from that friend’_ He looked up at Dean idly, trying to figure out how best to word it. _’the pilot might be one too’_.

The problem was going to be their next steps. He could try what he had done the last time he was on a plane that was hijacked, but who knew if it would work on the things. He looked at the cockpit door and sighed. He recognized the type of venting as the newer version. No way to pump gas into the cockpit for roughly the reason he had been trying to do before. They didn’t want their precious pilots drugged now, did they?

He looked back down at his computer which was now spewing information on the pilot. Useless information, since it wasn’t actually the pilot in there. He hated just giving them busywork, but it would keep them out of his hair. The flight program had them aiming for Canada of all places. _the stewardess was one, try them too_. He crossed his arms and stared at the door some more.

Dean rolled his eyes and wacked at the door. “Hey! Shifter! What’cha doing?” No-one replied, which was expected. If only one of them was they wouldn’t answer, and if they both were they didn’t need to. Dean banged harder. “Where are you taking us?” Still nothing. Dean knelt at the lock, eyeballing it. Electronic, damn. He turned back to Lex and tapped at it. “Hey hacker, can you get this?”

Lex walked over and eyed the lock too, then shook his head. “It’s not like I can just hack stuff from nothing. I need a connection.” He shrugged. “Besides, I bet it’s not hooked to the main systems.” He paused and stared. “Wait wait wait. I need a connection into the plane.”

Dean nodded and knelt at their feet. He jammed his blade into the floor, hurting the tip of his blade a little but getting through the carpet and to the floor paneling below. Lex watched in fascination as Dean easily popped the panel off and dug around the cording inside. He tugged on a familiar blue cord. “You got a connector to splice in?”

Lex grinned and dug around in his bag. “Duh.” He couldn’t help watching Dean as he expertly sawed through the cord and began stripping the wiring. He tossed him the cord. 

Dean caught it and began the same treatment to one end. “Which end do you want connected to?” He shook his head before Lex could answer. “Right, the cockpit side.” Thankfully data cables weren’t powered or Lex would be more worried about what Dean was doing. He paired the cables just fine, though without proper splicers he had to hassle the stripped wires wider apart than normal. He handed the intact plug end to Lex with a grin. “Here’s hoping I did that right.”

Lex popped the cord into its port and grinned as his computer recognized it. “Impressive work, Jagger.”

Dean grimaced. “Yeah, well, gotta kludge together EMF detectors sometimes. Also, it’s Winchester.”

“EMF?” Lex questioned as his fingers flew over the keyboard. He let the explanation wash over him. It was familiar answer except for the whole bit about ghosts. The flight programming was of course well protected for this sort of thing, but not protected enough from him. He looked up at Dean. “Uh, do you happen to know how to fly?”

Dean stared back wide-eyed and shook his head. “Are you flying now?”

“God no. I don’t know how to pilot!” He clicked over to the text stream, it having gotten increasingly panicked as he hadn’t responded. There was something about them finding the real pilots and servers, so that was good. He typed out a quick message and crossed his fingers. _’hacked the system, can’t pilot though’_. He opened the connection for HQ to control his laptop when needed. The mouse jiggled with a _’pilot here’_. He took the mouse and hovered it over the last thing to click. _’click when ready’_.

The plane jolted suddenly, Dean flailing in panic. “What happened? What are you doing? I thought you couldn’t fly!”

Lex carefully set the laptop down as far out of the way as he could within the cord’s reach. “I can’t, but HQ can.” He gestured to the door and the confused voices that came from behind it. “Monster expert time.”

Dean quickly righted himself, though he still looked on more edge as the plane slowly started to bank back the way they came. His knife trembled slightly before he clamped down on his fear. The plane crashing wouldn’t make a difference if he didn’t survive the shifters in the first place. Lex readied himself as best he could, not knowing at all what to do with the things. They had surprised him before, but he had taken the prescribed fight training to even be able to go out in the field like he did sometimes. Unfortunately for both, at about the same time as the cockpit door opened, the other stewardess finally came through the curtain.

Dean pushed the pilot into the cockpit, trying not to shove him onto the controls. He had no clue what would happen even if the plane was hacked like it was. Lex tried his best to subdue the stewardess, but she was certainly stronger than she looked. Thankfully a lot of the training taught him how to use his shorter height and relative lack of strength to advantage. He was able to get her to the ground, but that didn’t last long. He could hear Dean’s fight going on, and he hoped two at once wasn’t too much. The next punch proved he was easily distracted as he nearly went through the curtain. He clutched his nose in pain and tried desperately to at least keep her distracted and not make it a three on one fight. The way he managed it wasn’t his proudest moment, and Dean had to pull her off of slowly choking him. A quick, gruesome stab and she slumped to the floor. Lex panted, taking in the view of the cockpit. Blood and bodies, but the controls were clear. He croaked out a, “Thanks,” to Dean, rubbing at his throat.

“Welcome.” Dean sunk down onto the floor next to him, breathing heavy himself from the fight. He patted him on the shoulder with a grin. “Don’t they teach how to fight at the CIA?”

Lex rolled his eyes and reached for his laptop. “Yeah yeah, yuck it up.” He made sure everything was still running smoothly, and thankfully it was. “They’re routing us back home.” He sighed at the chat window. “Landing will be rough.”

“What? Why?” Now the fighting was over, Dean was beginning to panic at the general idea of still being in the air.

Lex gestured towards the dead pilots. “Our guy on the ground will be landing blind.” He rubbed at his face, wincing when he accidentally bumped his nose. “At least modern airplanes have all the gauges and stuff. If they’re right.”

“Don’t say that.” Dean practically whined, eyeing the open doorway nervously. He stood up and busied himself with shoving the bodies into the cockpit and out of sight. It didn’t hide the blood, or the open floor paneling, but at least it would take someone a few minutes to process before freaking out rather than instantly at the dead bodies. 

Lex tapped the side of his laptop in thought before turning to Dean. “Hey, uh, how do you want to handle the ground?”

“What?” Dean twitched a bit, mind jumping back to the way they were going to land.

“You know, what will I tell them?” He pointed to the door and the cart panels. “They all look exactly like the actual people, and me.” He grimaced slightly at the reminder. Seeing himself dead was probably going to haunt his nightmares for a bit. “And I’m pretty sure you can get arrested for killing people, even in self defense.”

“Right.” Dean nodded, considering. “What did you tell them about me?”

A slow smile crossed Lex’s face. “Nothing! Just that a friend helped me.” He tugged the computer over and did a quick couple of keystrokes to let the pilot have his own screen as he made his own workspace. He sorted through the plane’s camera feed, editing it so it looked like the terrorists had cut the feed. “What did you fly under?”

Dean watched Lex’s fingers fly, impressed at his abilities. “Jagger. It’s why I have that ID.”

Lex nodded and pulled up the passenger manifest. A couple of keystrokes later and he grinned. “You’re now sitting up and over a few rows. Just pretend you don’t know anything and it’ll all be good.”

“Damn you’re good.” Dean smacked him on the shoulder. “Hunters could use someone like you.”

Lex grimaced. “No offense, but all the CIA counter-terrorism bullshit I have to deal with is bad enough. I’d rather not have to work against them right now.” He did nudge his shoulder back with a grin. “Though I’ll try to help on occasion if I see you in trouble again.”

Dean grinned back. “Thanks man.”


End file.
